Rough Seas Redux
by SamuriKnight
Summary: What if Sully had been held hostage by the pirates? Includes MAJOR flashbacks to young Nate and youngish Sully. Rated: T for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

Nate took another punch to the face, waiting for an opening to make his move. It hurt like hell, but he could handle it, and worse. Honestly, he was having a harder time controlling the rising sense of panic that threatened to seize him. That sonuvabitch had Sully somewhere onboard, and was probably torturing him. The thought hurt a damn sight more than the beating he was currently taking.

Whenever Sully brought up his ever increasing age, Nate would typically shrug, make a joke, and laugh it off. Not this time. Nate got angry in France when he thought Sully was bowing out, using his age as an excuse. He was angry because while they were escaping from the burning chateau, he couldn't ignore the signs that Sully was slowing down, having a hard time keeping up. Nate was being selfish; he didn't want to admit his mentor might be getting too old for their adventures…because he still needed him. He wasn't ready to do this without Sully's help…or company. Hell, he loved the old man like a father. Sully knew that, even if they didn't really talk about it. _Now I could lose him for good. Sullivan might not live to complain about being "6 GODDAMN 1", and it'll be my fault. _This thought sent Nathan over the edge.

Nate head butted the thug that had been beating the crap of him, and with a strength borne of fury and desperation he hurled himself, chair and all into the man behind him. They slammed into the wall hard enough to break the chair Nate was tied to and the man's back. "Come on you bastards!" Nate egged on the remaining thugs. He was seething with anger, his adrenaline was pumping and he was ready for a fight. He quickly incapacitated the remaining pirates. Nate stopped long enough to grab a gun and assess his injuries (nothing serious for now) before going in search of Sully.

He finally made it out of the hold and onto the deck of the ship that held him prisoner. Nate wasn't sure what he expected to see, but it certainly wasn't the sight that lay before him. Instead of open water, he was surrounded by rusted and decaying vessels. Nate spotted the pirate who had threatened Sully; he was heading below deck on a large ship located on the far side of the floating junkyard. _It's gotta be where they're holding him._ Nate studied the obstacles that lay between him and his friend: one-hundred and fifty yards of sea filled with boats, floating platforms, and at least a dozen visible guards. He dove into the water and began swimming towards the nearest guard without a second thought. When Nate reached the boat where the first guard was keeping watch, he slowly climbed up the side and waiting for him to come within arm's reach. _Now._ Nate struck with lightening speed, jumping onto the deck, snapping the man's neck, and dumping his body overboard before he could utter a cry. Nathan dove for cover in case of the nearby pirates looked this way, his eyes searching the deck for anything useful—more ammo, a grenade or…he stopped_._ The thug's gun had landed on the deck before his corpse ended up in the sea. It was a .44 Smith and Wesson revolver.

_ Alright, you ready kid?" Sully yelled from the kitchen of his apartment. A cleaner although decidedly irritated Nate emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing a new t-shirt and pair of jeans, but carried his dirty old converse and a pair of socks in hand._ After our first job that calls for hiking through rough terrain he'll be goddamn thrilled to wear the boots I bought him. The kid always has to learn the hard way, _Sully thought. Nate sat down on the couch in the living room to put on his socks and shoes, grumbling under his breath the whole time._ _He almost looked like a normal teenager. _Still has that look in his eyes, like he might have to make a run for it any second_._

_ It had been a week since the fateful meeting of Victor Sullivan and Nathan Drake in Cartagena. Sully brought Nate back to the States with him, and had been teaching the kid some of the more important facts about the job. The first few days in each other's company were spent in lengthy discussions over hot meals.  
>"Didn't the nuns feed you at that goddamn place?" became Sully's most frequent lament. The conversations between the two usually went something along these lines:<em>  
>"<em>Lesson 1: Treasure hunter, thief, acquisitions expert, conman… all in the eye of the beholder. Honor among thieves? Let's just say there is a lot of new moral gray area for you to become familiar with, kid. You'll meet a lot of characters on the job, but the ones you can actually trust are few and far between. Until you're experienced enough to tell the difference between the two, don't trust any of 'em. Word to the wise, never trust anyone who says 'you can trust me.' Oldest goddamn trick in the book."<em>  
>"<em>So, I can trust you?"<em>  
>"<em>If you have to ask, then you aren't experienced enough to tell the difference. Lesson 2…"<em>

_Sullivan and Drake spent hours talking about the rules of free lance thievery, how to handle clients, the best way to sell stolen treasure, as well as reading maps, legends of ancient civilizations and lost treasures, and the study of languages.  
>"You read Latin and archaic Spanish?" Sully asked in disbelief.<em>  
><em> "Yeah, you don't?" The extraordinary knowledge Nathan possessed amazing Sullivan, but so did the kid's extraordinary ignorance.<em>  
><em> "Whatcha watching?" Nate (who always seemed to sleep in) had wandered into the living room one morning to find Sully eating a bowl of cereal, watching a movie on TV. It was black and white, and two men in antique looking diving suits were exploring a sunken ship. "Is this about prehistoric treasure hunters? Are you trying to relive your glory days?" Nate smirked.<em>  
><em> "It's called 'Reap the Wild Wind'. The Duke is about to get eaten by a giant squid. Kind of deserves it though, he's an ass in this one."<em> He must really like this movie, didn't even say anything about the age joke, _Nate thought._ _He sat down on the chair on the other side of the room. After a couple minutes he saw the fakest looking movie prop ever to appear on screen in the form of the giant-Duke-eating-squid.  
>"Alright. That's just stupid. Who is the Duke anyway?" Sully almost dropped his bowl.<br>"The Duke! John Wayne! One of the best actors to ever hold a six-shooter! How in the hell-" Sully ranted for awhile about that one. _

"_You said to be ready by 9:00. It's just now 8:30. What's the rush?" Nate had finished putting his shoes on and stood up, waiting for an explanation.  
>"Food stores are low, figured we could stop along the way to eat." Nate all but ran out the door, forgetting to shut it. Sully stood there enjoying the last couple sips of his coffee.<br>"Who's holding us up now, old man?" He heard Nate yell from outside. Laughing, Sully set the cup in the sink, grabbed his duffle bag which he had sitting ready by the door, and headed out after the boy.  
>"Where are we headed?" Sully and Nate were back in the car after they finished their breakfast at a nearby greasy spoon. It took a full two minutes for Nate to lay into Sully with the questions. Patience was definitely not one of Nate's virtues.<br>"Just outside of the city a friend of mine owns some isolated property. He has an outdoor firing range set up there. He's out of town this week." Sully pulled out a fresh cigar and lit it. He took a few puffs and sighed in approval.  
>"You need some more practice 'cause the ole eyesight isn't what it used to be or just want to get out some of that pent up aggression?" Sully didn't respond for a few moments. <em>The kid always has to be a wise-ass,_ he thought.  
>"Neither. It's time for you to learn to handle a gun yourself." Nate didn't say anything the rest of the drive. Once they arrived, Sully grabbed his bag and told Nate to follow him. They walked around the house (more like a cabin really) to the back of the property. There were two targets set up at different distances, and two tables. Sully guided Nate to the table with the shorter distanced target.<br>"Okay, Nate. We'll start here." Sully set his bag on the table and proceeded to pull out and line up several handguns and containers of ammo.  
>"Sully, what if I don't want to shoot anyone?" The older man looked at the boy, studying him for a moment. Nate had acted tough in Cartagena, but right now he looked like a scared kid. <em>Hell, he is a scared kid. He's only 15 goddamn years old, you idiot. Were you running around shooting people when you were 15? _Sully thought how best to put it to him.  
>"Listen, Nate. If you want to be in this business and live this lifestyle, you're going to have to carry a gun. It's dangerous work. I'm not teaching you everything I know just so some low-life thug can kill you the first time we run into trouble. I've got to know that you can look out for yourself. Even though we have each other's backs, we won't always be working side by side on jobs, and I can't spend every moment that you're not within sight worrying about you." Nate was silent, thinking.<br>"That man on the roof in Cartagena was going to kill me, but I couldn't pull the trigger." He whispered, almost to himself. Sully pretended not to hear him.  
>"Here, we'll start with this." Sully held a 9mm Beretta. "Before we go into all the finer details about aiming and proper gun maintenance, I want you to fire off a few rounds so you're not so afraid of holding the damn thing."<br>"I'm not afraid. Why can't I try your gun first?" Nate's chip-on-the-shoulder-attitude was back firmly in place. He pointed to Sully's .44 Smith and Wesson that had been laid out on the table as well.  
>"It'll knock you on your ass, kid." Sully warned.<br>"Yeah, right. I can handle it." Sully shrugged, and picked up his Wes .44. _The goddamn kid always has to learn the hard way._ Sully loaded the revolver and set it back on the table. He moved to stand behind Nate.  
>"Alright, the gun in loaded and the safety is off. When you're ready, try firing off a couple rounds. Just don't shoot off your foot by accident." Nate picked up the gun, and braced himself. Sully looked at the kid's firing stance: his feet about a foot apart, and side by side. He held the gun with both hands directly in front of himself. Sully watched the kid tense up and start to pull the trigger, his hands shaking slightly. BANG! Nate stumbled backwards and would have fallen as predicted, but Sully caught the kid and set him back on his feet. He also relieved Nate of the gun, flicked the safety on and set it back on the table. "You done fooling around, kid?" Nate stood just staring at Sully. "You alright, son?" Nate's reaction was automatic.<br>"Don't c—" he stopped. "Yeah, thanks for not letting me fall on my ass." Nate smiled ruefully. Sully clapped him on the shoulder.  
>"Anytime, kid." <em>

Nate picked up the Wes .44 and checked the cylinder for ammo. It was full. He tucked the weapon into his jeans at the small of his back. _This'll put a smile on the old man's face,_ Nate thought. Sully still needed a replacement for his gun that he lost in Syria. Nate quietly slipped into the water and made his way to his next target. _Hang on Sully, I'm coming. _

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><p><em>My first story so be kind. Expect chapter two sometime next week.<br>_


	2. Chapter 2

Nate picked up the Wes .44 and checked the cylinder for ammo. It was full. He tucked the weapon into his jeans at the small of his back. _This'll put a smile on the old bastard's face,_ Nate smiled briefly. Sully still required a replacement for the one that he lost in Syria. He would need it before things were settled with Marlowe, one way or the other. _If these assholes kill Sullivan, she is a dead woman._ Nathan knew that this would violate one of the most important rules Sully had taught him, but this one time he just didn't care. _Only kill when someone is trying to kill you, and you have no other options, kid. We may be thieves, but we're not the bad guys,_ Nate heard Sully saying in his heard. _And killing for revenge? It's not worth it, trust me, son. I don't want you carrying around that kind of guilt._ Nate didn't trust many people in this world, _hell, I could count them on one hand_. Sully and he had their fair share of ups and downs to be sure—_I'm still pissed about what happened with Roman in the Amazon that time, but what can a guy do? _ At the end of the day Sullivan was the only family Nate had, and nothing would save anyone idiotic enough to try and take that away from him.

Nate abandoned this train of thought and focused on their current predicament. He quietly slipped into the water and made his way to the next target. _Hang on Sully, I'm coming. _

_Sully and Nate stood, firing the last rounds of the day at their respective targets. This was their third session that week, and Nate had caught on quick. Once they had emptied their guns, Nate and Sully both flicked the safety and set down their pistols almost simultaneously. Sully then nodded, and the pair walked over to inspect his target. Nate's grouping was dead center and tight. He was still using the nearer of the two targets, but was doing a damn fine job. _Just like I told him! He's got real talent, _Sully thought. He felt an unmistakable surge of pride in the boy's skill._

"Not bad kid, not bad at all." Sully didn't want to praise Nate too much, he was cocky enough already.

Or at least he pretends to be. The kid's tough for sure, but he likes to put on an act, like he has to prove it to the world; _Sully felt for the boy, but admired his determination to be independent. _He's got trust issues—that's for damn sure. Aww hell, quit worrying like an old woman. He'll come 'round. _Sully shook his head almost imperceptibly, as if trying to physically force that train of thought out of his mind. He was starting to get attached to the boy, and it worried him. Nathan was afraid of letting someone in and getting burned...but so was Sullivan. He shifted his focus once more to Nate.  
>"Next time we'll switch spots and you can have a go at the farther target." Nate finally stopped admiring his handiwork and started walking towards Sully's target.<br>"Might as well see what I'm up against." This was the first time Sullivan had practiced with Nate. The kid didn't need as much direction or supervision now, he was really just working on his aim and getting a feel for the different handguns. Sully was trying to entertain himself, and so set up his own target. Nate got within a few paces, and stopped dead. "Holy shit," he muttered under his breath. Sully had actually shot a smiley-face into the paper target, and the spread was so tight he could almost cover it with his outstretched hand. "Where did you learn to shoot like that?" The boy's obvious admiration gave him a small, yet unexpected rush of satisfaction.  
>"My father." Sully saw the look on Nate's face and immediately regretted his words. <em>Parents! Sensitive goddamn subject remember? _Sullivan kicked himself mentally. The admiration was gone and a vacant look_ _replaced it. _This kid's parents must really have screwed him over. _Sully knew that Nate grew up in an orphanage, but the boy still hadn't told him why or how he ended up there. "It's not what you think. My dad was a proper bastard." _Wait, why am I telling him this? _Nate looked at him, the question in his eyes clearly saying he wanted more detail. "My father was in the Army and fought through half the major European battles in WW2. He had a rough time, even though the war ended in '45, he lived the rest of life like he was still fighting it." Sully paused, debating on whether to continue.  
>"So, he taught you to shoot, what was wrong with that?" Nate was puzzled.<br>"The lessons weren't optional, kid. He started teaching me when I was twelve years old and made me practice three times a_ _week until I was sixteen. I hated it." Sully pulled out a cigar and lit it, taking a few puffs, before continuing. "And the only goddamn reason he stopped forcing me to practice was because by that age I was able to out-shoot him. He expected me to enlist in the army as soon as I was eighteen, just like he had."  
>"Did you join the Army?" Sully barked out a laugh. The kid certainly knew which questions to ask.<br>"Hell no! I joined the Navy just to stick it to him instead, he was madder 'n hell and we didn't speak for years after that. But I got to see some of the world, and that made it worth it." Sullivan hadn't talked about his father to anyone in quite a long time. _Hell, not since I left the Navy. I gotta be careful; this kid has a way of getting under your skin.  
><em>"Is that what made you go into this business? " Nate kept them coming, but Sullivan was done playing twenty questions.<br>"That's a long story. How about we save it for another time, huh? Come on, let's pack up and get going." They began walking back towards the pair of tables.  
>"My father was a proper bastard, too." Nate whispered suddenly. Sully wasn't sure the kid was even talking to him, but this time he didn't ignore him. Instead he put his hand on the boy's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.<br>"What do you say we go grab something to eat? Hell, I'll even buy you a beer and we can drink to our crappy Fathers!"  
>"You're really gonna buy me a beer?" Nate asked skeptically. Sully laughed.<br>"Naw, I'm just screwing with you, kid. I'll spring for the dinner though." Nate smiled.  
>"Thanks a lot, old man." <em>

Nate snuck onto the next pirate-bearing platform and disposed of him in the same fashion as the first. Snap, splash, then move onto the next target. After the third corpse hit the water Nate stopped to check his watch. _This is taking too long._ He still had over ten guards and at least a hundred yards to go. Nate worried that if he used his gun to attack the guards openly, then the bastards would kill Sully immediately. _If I keep going at this pace, he might be beyond help by the time I reach him. _He considered his two brief encounters with Rameses, the leader of this pack of motherless scum. The man was naturally greedy, but he was also arrogant. He wouldn't expect one beaten and broken down prisoner to outgun and outsmart his entire band of pirates. _He'll keep Sully alive until the last minute, hoping he'll crack. I just need to kill enough of them to create a diversion. Then it'll be sneak in, grab Sully, sneak out…_Nate knew he was being optimist. _Sneak in, sneak out? When the hell has that ever worked, kid? _Nate could hear Sully saying. _Oh, shut up. Since when did you become my own personal voice of reason? Now I know you're getting old! You used to be the reckless one. _

Nate climbed to the upper deck of the boat and readied himself for the upcoming fight. After checking both guns for ammo again, he took several moments to place the guards—six were within easy shooting distance. They wouldn't be a problem. However, four more were within sight but outside of comfortable firing range, he would just be wasting the ammo. Nate would either have to change positions and quickly push forward, or pick up a weapon with more fire power. He'd figure it out as he went along. _ 'Cause, hey, I'm adaptable, right? _Nate opted to start with the .44, it was usually a one-shot kill. He aimed for the chest of the guard nearest to him. _You brought this down on yourselves, assholes,_ he smiled grimly. After a moment or two Nate took a deep breath, exhaled, and fired.

* * *

><p><em>Alright housekeeping time!<em>

_First off thanks everyone for the lovely comments. It's really encouraging me to write more._

_Next, I'm sorry for any jarring typos._

_Thirdly, I reworked the last couple lines from chapter one and expanded them, thus creating the first paragraph of ch 2. Trying to keep the story flowing smoothly, which is hard with the multiple chapter thing. This is already twice the size I originally intended._

_Next to last, I really love writing the flashback bits (can you tell I want more Sullivan and Drake back story? Damn you for the tease you are, Naughty Dog!) but I promise that the next chapter will really help to further the events in the present._

_And now for the home stretch-mgowriter I think the Hammer will fit in the next chapter nicely (I had actually planned on including it from the start, such a fun weapon in the game). This story needs a good explosion or two anyway!_

_PS. thanks themiskyra for mentioning Rameses name, I completely forgot he had one!  
><em>


	3. Chapter 3

Nathan Drake aimed for the chest of the guard nearest to him, and waited for the man to cease his pacing. Nate "felt" the shot, taking a moment to account for the rocking of his and the guard's respective boats. The guard stopped and pulled out a cigarette—_now._ Nathan took a deep breath, exhaled, and fired. The man was dead before his body hit the deck. Nate had shot the pirate through the heart, and without a second thought for the life he just ended, he set his sights on the next target.

_ Nathan Drake closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He was hiding on a cliff ledge in the middle of the Brazilian jungle. Nate glanced around the edge of the boulder he was using for cover, quickly taking in the scene beneath him. _ had everything gotten so screwed up so fast? _He wondered. _

_Drake was now sixteen, he and Sullivan had been working together just a little under two years. There had been a few close calls in that time_, even ended up in jail for a week back in Peru…but things had never gotten **this** bad._ It had all started with Nate trying to climb the cliff face.  
>"Think you can climb that, kid?" Sully and Nate had abandoned the jeep a ways back, and had been hiking through the jungle for about an hour before they hit a dead end. The map they'd stolen from a local museum was old certainly, but there was no mention of the thirty foot sheer rock wall that they now faced. "See if you can get a better look around. We gotta be missing something here." Sully continued to poor over the map while Nate stared at him blankly.<br>"Why don't you climb up there since you obviously can't read the map?" Nate was trying to draw Sully's attention away from the real issue at hand by making him mad. Sullivan saw right through it of course.  
>"I'm not climbing up there because I don't need the practice. You may have grown six inches in the last six months, but you've also grown more reckless and a damn sight less coordinated. When climbing you look about as awkward as a monkey trying to hump a football." Sully glanced up long enough to see the fake look of hurt on Drake's face. He laughed. "No dice, kid. Now start climbing. We're burning daylight."<br>"Fine." Nate moved towards the wall. "But really? A monkey humping a football? You have the best expressions, Sully." Nate started scaling the wall at a quick pace.  
>"I just call 'em like I see 'em. Slow down and be careful!" Now that Nathan could no longer see Sullivan, he set aside the map and stood back a few paces from the wall, watching his every move anxiously. The kid's growth spurt had made him faster, but he hadn't mastered the use of his now lanky limbs, and was clumsy. Nate did a particularly risky jump to a nearby handhold. Sully's stomach did a back flip. <em>The kid is going to break his goddamn neck! _No sooner had Sully thought this than Nate made another jump, and another. "Nate, I said slow—" Too late. The last rocky projection he jumped to crumbled under his hands. He hadn't taken the time to scout out the next handhold after that, and so he froze, not knowing where to jump. Nate let out a small cry, and fell. Sullivan lunged forward to help break his kid's fall. He half-caught Nate and the two hit the ground. Hard. Sully had the wind knocked out of him, so he lay where he fell struggling to catch his breath. Nate was surprisingly unhurt, just a little bruised. He jumped to his feet immediately.  
>"Sully I'm sor—"Nate had grabbed his arm to help him to his feet, but Sully gasped and cursed. The kid let go of his friend's arm as if it had burned him. "What's wrong?"<br>"Dislocated." Sully grunted through clenched teeth. "Shitty luck you landed on my bad shoulder. Here, give me a hand." Nate grabbed his good arm and helped the man up. _Kid looks like he just ran over a puppy,_ Sully thought. "Don't feel too guilty. You're not the first person that's done this."  
>"Who was?" Sully sat down on a nearby fallen log. Nate hovered over him, ready to help.<br>"Charlie goddamn Watts in the 11__th__ grade. I was running a beautiful play, had just made the best pass of the season, when Charlie tackled me. We still won the game though." Sully gingerly moved his arm so it was fully extended. "Alright Nate, this is an easy fix, but we gotta do it fast. So just listen. Take my wrist in your right hand, and hold it level with my shoulder." Sully groaned in pain at the movement. "Now here's the fun part. Put your left hand on my shoulder blade. You're going to have to pull on my wrist, hard. Then immediately push my shoulder forward until you hear it pop back into place. Think you can handle that, kid?" Nate was white as a sheet, but nodded. "Okay, count of three. One, two—"Nate quickly did as instructed and jumped back when Sully screamed in pain. His mentor stood up and paced for a few moments, rotating his shoulder and cursing under his breath. "I need a goddamn drink. And what the hell was that, kid? What don't you understand about 'one, two, three, go'?" Sully pulled out cigar, the nicotine would have to do until they made it back to civilization.  
>"You said 'count of three.' That means 'one, two, go.' You shoulda clarified first." Nate's color had returned, and he smiled at the old man now that the small crisis was over. Sully pretended to throw his flashlight at the kid and Nate dodged out of the way. "How's it feel?"<br>"Hurts like hell, but I'll live. Now quit stalling and get your ass to the top of that cliff, son." Sully worried that if Nate didn't get back on the horse immediately, it'd be ten times worse when he eventually did. He didn't look nervous though, he looked…determined. Sully watched as he made his way up more carefully this time.  
>"Hey Sully, no way were you the quarterback!" Nate yelled down at him.<br>"Oh really, why's that kid?" Nate was over halfway up now.  
>"Quarterbacks are strategists always stuck on the edge of the fight!" He had just a few more feet to go.<br>"So, you trying to say I never have a plan?" Nate made it to the top. He stood on the edge of the cliff, grinning like a madman.  
>"No, I'm saying you always have to be in the middle of the fight!"<br>"True enough, but the story sounds better if I'm the QB!" Sully laughed loudly letting the tension run out of him now that Nate was safely at the top.  
>"I'm going to look around a bit. Just hang tight, old man!" Nate saw a narrow path through the jungle in front of him. He followed it for about five minutes, until he came to a large clearing. There were no stone structures, but hundreds of pottery sherds covering the ground. Nate picked up a few to take to Sully, and began walking back the way he had come. <em>He'll have a hard time climbing with that shoulder. Maybe I can find another way up. _As he approached the cliff's edge he heard voices. Nate dove for cover behind the boulder. _

_Nate pulled out his gun. He poked his head around the edge of the boulder, watching the scene play out below him. There were two locals down there with Sullivan. The one to the left of Sully had an AK-47 and he held it only half-raised, but his finger was on the trigger. The one walking back and forth in front of his mentor was the man doing all the talking.  
>"We saw you and the boy leave the village. I'll ask you again, where is he?" Sullivan shrugged his one shoulder.<br>"I told you, the kid went back to the jeep for some rope. Maybe he got lo—" Without warning the bastard punched Sully in his injured shoulder, hard enough to drop him to one knee.  
>"Fine, we will find and kill the boy. Next question. What are you looking for out here?" The thug held up the map.<br>"I'm an archaeologist and the kid is my student. We're—" This time the thug punched Sully in the face, splitting his lip.  
>"No more lies!" Nate watched as the man dragged Sullivan back to his feet, pulled out a dagger, and held it to his friend's throat. <em>No! _Nate took aim with his pistol, his hands shaking. He was a good shot at the range, but he had never __**shot a man**__. _"_Now, the truth, or this is going to get much more painful for you." _Just move your damn knife! _Nate was ready to fire, but was afraid to do so with the dagger so close to Sully's neck.  
>"Go to hell." Sully spit blood in the man's face. The thug reacted immediately. He jerked back, and raised the knife to stab Sully. BANG! BANG! Nate had shot blade-wielding bastard in the back and the other thug in the shoulder. Sully wrestled the AK from the injured man, and finished the job. A few minutes later Nathan had climbed down the cliff. He jogged towards Sullivan but stopped a few feet away. "You okay, kid?"Sully knelt down next to the dead man. He retrieved their map, and his .44 from the body. Nate just stared. "Hey, Nate?" The boy finally looked Sully is the eye. Now he knew what was bothering the kid. "You didn't have a choice, son. These guys would have killed both of us without a second thought, you got that? So don't waste your time feeling guilty. You did good today." Nate understood what Sully was saying, but he still needed a moment to pull himself together.<em> I killed a man_…he kept staring at the unmoving body._ _Then he finally glanced up at Sully, who honestly looked like hell. His chin was smeared with blood and he already had bruises forming along the right side of his face. There was also blood on his neck. Seeing all this, especially how close his friend had come to having his throat slit, the guilt slowly faded away. Sully and he were alive. That's what mattered.  
>"Are you alright?" He pointed to the cut. Sully felt the wound.<br>"Yeah. It's pretty shallow, won't even leave a scar. Shame, the ladies love scars." Now it was Nate's turn to laugh in relief.  
>"You're crazy, old man." <em>

Drake quickly killed the next two guards, then dove off boat before they could get a fix on his location. He swam to the next boat and climbed up the side. Nate shot the guard onboard while hanging, then leap over and ran for cover. The bullets were ricocheting around him. A sliver of flying splinter cut his cheek. _Time to move again._ He blind fired from cover, unwittingly hitting a guard in the chest, and snuck to the far end of the boat, picking up some ammo along the way. He hid behind a stack of crates, and loaded his gun. Nate had switched to the pistol, counting more on the quantity of shots fired than their quality. He couldn't help but notice the writing on the crate he leaned up against, it read 'M32'. _Oh baby, please let this be what I think it is!_ He peaked over the top of the crates, only to find one of them was already open. _Perfect._  
>The two guards on the boat next to his had spotted him. "He's over here!" Nate blind fired until his gun was empty. He reloaded but didn't fire again. "He's out of ammo!" <em>That's what you think, asshole. <em>Nate waited for the two thugs to leave their cover, and get close enough together. They were just a few feet apart when he took aim with the grenade launcher, and fired. The two somersaulted through the air, landing in the water. _Double-points!_ Nate didn't have long to celebrate. Suddenly, the entire boat shook as it took heavy gun fire. There was a turret nearby which he had failed to notice, that now had him pinned down. _Son of a bitch. _

* * *

><p><em>Wow, sorry folks that this took forever. I had a major case of writers block. Then the chapter ended up being waaaaaay longer than intended. Thanks again for the positive feedback! <em>

_I know this wasn't an ideal place to end, but I wanted to post this before it got an longer. The flashback totally hijacked this chapter. More soon!  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4

Drake could feel his cover disintegrating behind him. _If those bullets hit a crate with M32 ammo—_Nate had been waiting for an opening to return fire, now he strapped the Hammer to his back and waiting for an opening to break cover and get off this _damn ticking time-bomb._ The turret finally stopped its brutal assault; a couple of seconds was all he needed. He rolled out from behind the crates (or what was left of them) and ran like hell. The sound of gunfire erupted once more, and the bullets burned through the air around Nate. He arrived at the end of the boat at a sprint, and dove into the water once more. _God, I'm never going swimming again. _He resurfaced quietly, under the cover of one of the floating docks. The pirates were shouting back and forth to each other, trying to locate him. Nate needed to create a diversion, so he could take out the damn turret before he got caught in its sights again.

Nate was low on ammo, and couldn't afford to waste a shot, and it'd probably just draw their attention to _him._ He saw a large glass window (surprisingly still intact) about twenty feet from his hiding spot. Now all he needed was something to throw. He looked around the dock, nothing jumped out at him. _I thought improvisation was your specialty, kid? _Sully's voice mocked him. _Thanks, old man._ He pulled out the empty .44 he'd been saving. _Sorry Sully, I'll buy you a shiny new one when this is all over._He threw the gun, and hit the boat's window dead center. For a moment the only sound that filled the air was that of shattering glass, and then the gunfire resumed once more. While all eyes were focused elsewhere, Nate climbed onto the dock, took a moment to aim, and fired his last grenade. The turret exploded in spectacular fashion, along with two more thugs.

Nate ran from cover to cover, collecting ammo and taking out the last three pirates. He was just ten yards from his goal when he heard an all too familiar sound. He dove for cover too late. The world seemed to explode around him; at first all he could feel was the heat of the blast…then blinding pain. The force of the explosion launched him several feet through the air, knocking him flat on his back. Drake's ears were ringing, when he opened his eyes there were grey spots creeping in at the corners of his field of vision. He tried to get up, but the pain at the sudden movement kept him down. G_otta keep going_, his mind insisted. The grey spots grew larger. _Goddamnit kid, get up! _

"_Nate, where are you? Nate!" _Sully? _It sounded like his friend was shouting to him from a great distance. _But he was just running beside me—_Nate opened his eyes and blinked a few times as the world around him came back into focus. His brain kicked into overdrive as he remembered where he was and what was happening. He could still hear Sully yelling to him over a cacophony of other noises: screams, the pounding of running feet, and gunfire. Lots of gunfire. "Goddamnit kid, get up!" Nate could here Sully, but all he could see were terrified people running past. He started to roll onto all fours to make standing easier, but even that small maneuver hurt like hell. Without warning, a boot connected with his stomach sending him sprawling onto his back again. A guerrilla fighter stood over him. "NATE!" Then the bastard beat him over head with the butt of his rifle, and blackness enveloped Drake. _

_Sullivan and Drake were in a small coffee shop, having just met with a potential client. The man wanted them to steal an artifact last seen in a volatile area of the former Soviet Republic, now named something that Sully couldn't even pronounce. Nate had been eager to accept the job, a simple acquisition operation that promised to be very profitable. Sully, however, had not been as thrilled by the offer. He tried to warn the kid, but Nate was now twenty-one and all but unstoppable._

_"C'mon Sully, the war has been over in that country since 1994. It's 1999 for crying out loud!"Sullivan knew that even though the war had officially ended, a 'cease-fire' typically meant little in that part of the world. All the same, Sully caved and agreed to work the job with him._Might as well go along. I'd just worry about the reckless idiot until he got back anyway. _He told Nate he was in.  
>"This way I can keep an eye on your troublesome ass, and use the money to get that replacement part for the Hog Wild." He couldn't argue with the logic of that.<br>"I know it's a nice ass, but try to keep your eyes off it, partner." Sully laughed as he stood to leave the café.  
>"I've seen better, kid." He tossed some money on the table and walked out.<br>"You're turning into a dirty old man." Nate yelled after him. _

_Once they arrived in the Republic of Whateverthehellitscalled things had degraded quickly. They located the museum, but the city was attacked by an isolated guerilla force before they could make their move. Sullivan and Drake had simply been walking down the street, scoping out the museum and possibly entry/exit points for the job when all hell broke loose. The first explosion caused everyone in the busy street to stop and look around wide-eyed—then the gunfire set the crowd into a panic.  
>"Goddamn it. Would now be too soon for an 'I told you so'?" Sully yelled at him.<br>"Seriously? What were the chances!" He yelled back. They saw the aggressors coming down the street in armed vehicles and on foot, their faces covered with black scarves.  
>"Run, Nate!" They ran with the rest of the crowd, when a nearby explosion knocked Sullivan off-balance and he stumbled a few steps before hitting the ground. He was nearly trampled by the stampeding locals, but he managed to get to his feet with only minor scrapes and bruises. He looked around expecting to find Nate already on his feet and waiting for him nearby. The kid was nowhere to be seen. Now it was Sullivan's turn to panic.<br>"Nate! Where are you?" Sully had to struggle against the pressing crowd which threatened to carry him off. _The blast had been close, what if he got hit by a piece of shrapnel? Or a stray bullet? _This and a dozen other scenarios ran through his mind as he looked around frantically. "Nate!" Sully finally managed to make his way to the edge of the street. He halfway climbed up a street sign to see over the heads of the crowd. He didn't care if it made him an easy target. There! Drake was lying on his back about twenty-five feet from Sully, and on the other side of the street. He could see his friend starting to roll onto his side. He also saw the guerrillas fast approaching. He jumped down and tried to push through the mob. "Goddamn it kid, get up!" Sully was still too far away when one of the masked bastards reached him. He saw the man kick him in his gut. "Nate!" Sully finally pushed his way out of the crowd, even as the sonuvabitch brought his gun down on Drake's head, knocking him out cold. Sully pulled out his .44 and shot the man in the head. Another guerilla approached and Sully shot him in the chest. As the invading force caught up with the civilians, small fights began to break out all around Sullivan and Drake._

_Sully moved quickly, before someone else attacked them. He may have been twenty-five years older than his protégé, but he was still taller and broader, and so pulled the kid into a fireman's carry without much trouble. The massive amount of adrenaline pumping through his system helped too. He moved as quickly as possible, the bullets whistling around them_._ He darted down the first side street he came to, hoping to escape the fighting faster that way. A few minutes later he heard Nate groan in pain.  
><em> _"Almost there, kid. Hang tough." Nate just grunted in response. _Thank god,_ Sully thought. _That was too goddamn close. _The hotel they were staying in was just a couple of blocks away, and they made it there without further incident. He could still hear the nearby sounds of battle as he walked through the front doors. The manager was nowhere to be seen and the lobby was abandoned. Sully bee-lined for the nearest piece of furniture and lay Nate down as gently as he could. "Nate? Hey, Nate!" he snapped his fingers a few times. "You with me? You hurt?" Drake rubbed his aching head for a few seconds, then finally focused on Sully.  
>"Yeah, I'm with you. And no, just a screaming headache, some cuts and bruises I think." Sully grunted in acknowledgement, and all but collapsed next to the couch he had set Nate on. The adrenaline was gone, and his great sense of relief was only surpassed by his great exhaustion. "Sully? Are you alright?" Nate got up and crouched in front of his mentor, eyes scanning him for signs of injury. The man just shook his head, and it was Nate's turn to feel relief. He sat on the floor next to Sullivan. "Thanks for saving my ass back there."Still too winded to speak, Sully nodded. Nate leaned his shoulder against his friend's. Sully understood the gesture, he also enjoyed the comfort and reassurance that simple contact provided. "So, wanna try again tomorrow?" Sully groaned.<br>"Kid, you're gonna give me a goddamn heart attack." _

_Can't quit now, gotta save Sully's ass_, Nate thought. He forced himself to move, in spite of the pain. The asshole with the grenade launcher of his own was on the top deck of the ship holding Sully. Drake rolled behind a stack of metal barrels just as the pirate fired his next shot. The grenade landed too far away to hurt him. His strength wearing thin, Nate took a chance and jumped out from behind his cover to go for the quick kill. His first shot missed by a mile, his next was right between the eyes. _Huh, lucky. _He looked to the ship, and tried not to think about what might be waiting for him inside.

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><p>This story has turned into a monster with a mind of its own. I am slowly but surely making progress. Heck, we might even see present day Sully in the next chapter.<p>

Thanks once again for the encouragement everyone, I hope you're still enjoying the story and that it hasn't wandered too far off the reservation.


	5. Chapter 5

Drake jumped from the floating dock onto the ladder that would take him to the ship's main deck. He climbed with some difficulty, his muscles screaming in protest. The events of the last few days were finally catching up with him. Near the top of the ladder he missed one of the rungs and nearly fell…_keep it together, you can rest when Sully is safe._ He finally made it onto the deck. Nate tried the first door he came too. It was locked. He looked down the length of the deck, seeing a long line of doors and staircases. _How the hell am I going to find him?_ The answer wasn't long in coming. Nate heard the thumping of running footsteps and quickly ducked behind some crates. A new group of armed lackeys came bursting out of one of the nearby doors. They ran to the ladder Nate had just come up. He waited until the last man was climbing down before moving. _I need to keep these jerks busy while I look for Sully. _He pulled out his pistol and a grenade. The thugs were still in the process of climbing and would have no idea from which direction he attacked. He pulled the pin on the grenade, and tossed it onto the boat nearest the ship. The explosion knocked one of the guards off the ladder, and sent the others into a panic. While their ears were still ringing, he fired off a few shots. _Have fun, idiots._ Nate doubled back and went through the door the pirates had just used.

After roaming around the inside of the ship for a good five minutes Nate finally heard something—the sound of raised voices. He jogged in that direction as quietly as he could, coming to a door that opened up into a large cargo hold. He heard the voices on the far side of the hold, but there were stacks of crates and metal storage containers blocking his line of sight. Using these as cover, Nate quietly crept closer.  
>"For the last time, how do I find Ubar!" Nate heard a familiar grunt of pain. He had come as close as he could while still remaining hidden, and peered around the corner of the container he hid behind. Rameses stood in front of Sullivan, who was tied to a chair, and blocked Nate's view of his friend. He noticed his mentor's familiar red Havana shirt in a pile on the floor a few feet away, along with his gun holster. The pirate began to pace back and forth, allowing Nate to actually see Sully. The sight made Drake's blood boil.<p>

Sullivan's once white t-shirt was now mostly red—the blood ran freely from a series of cuts that crossed his chest. Nate saw the knife in Rameses hand. _Goddamn sonunvabitch. _  
>"Tell me, Sullivan, and I promise your death with be quick." Rameses set the knife down and picked up his pistol this time. He held it to Sully's head. "TELL ME!" Nate's mind was racing, and his heart pounding. <em>Think of something fast! <em>Suddenly,he heard Sully laugh.  
>"Go to hell." Drake froze, certain that he was about to see his oldest friend's brains blown out. Rameses controlled his anger, barely, and instead pistol whipped the older man knocking him out cold. Nate's relief was short lived; he had to make a move before the idiots outside realized they were on a wild goose chase. It was him against Rameses and two other armed guards that stood nearby. He might have a chance with the element of surprise of his side, he just had to get Rameses first, as he posed the most immediately threat to his unconscious friend. Nate checked the ammo in the pistol he held in hand, and tucked his second pistol into his jeans. He chanced one more look—Rameses was yelling into his radio, probably reaming his thugs for letting one lousy captive cause so much trouble. <em>Here we go.<em>

Nate slipped out from behind the cargo container, took aim at the still shouting pirate, and fired. He saw the man fall, and immediately swung his gun around to the nearest guard, who was raising his AK to fire. Nate killed him before he could get off a round. The second guard was faster, and fired at Nate just as he dove behind the crate once more. The seconds seemed like an eternity, but Drake waited patiently while the bullets peppered the storage container, then he heard the telltale click—the thug had emptied his clip. Nate sprung out once more and killed the remaining guard before he could reload. Nate lowered his weapon, and took a moment to breath, letting some of the tension run out of him.

Drake started towards his friend when suddenly Rameses sprang up, gun in hand. He crouched behind Sullivan, using him for cover while holding the gun to his head. Nate held his own gun aloft, but couldn't risk firing with the bastard so close to Sully. _Shit, how did I miss him?_ Then he saw the blood dripping from the pirate's shirt—he had hit the man high and to the left, through the fleshy part of his shoulder. Rameses was losing blood fast, he could use that to his advantage.  
>"Drop your gun, Nathan. Or I shoot him in the head. NOW!" Nate believed the man, and dropped his pistol. <em>Just gotta distract him long enough to pull my other gun, blood loss should make his reflexes slower…<em>Drake knew the chances of him surviving this whole thing had drastically decreased in the last couple of seconds. However, he glanced at his oldest friend and knew he had to try his best anyway.  
>"That shoulder looks pretty bad, you should probably get it looked at. Shame the bullet didn't hit a little lower, and then you wouldn't have had to worry about it at all." He flashed his patented shit-eating grin. Rameses was fuming.<br>"You are a worthless bastard Nathan Drake, but I should have demanded that woman give me more money, because I am doing everyone a great service by getting rid of you. And don't worry about your friend. He'll live long enough to tell me the location." He smiled nastily, standing up and swinging the gun around to aim at Nate, while at the same time Drake fell to a knee and reached for his own weapon. The sound of two gunshots rang out simultaneously, then silence.

"_HE HAS IT, SULLY! THAT LITTLE BASTARD STOLE MY SHARE OF THE GOLD!" The man pulled out his gun, aiming at Nate. The boy visibly paled, but stood his ground.  
>"Sully, I didn't—" Sullivan shot Nate his best shut-the-hell-up look.<br>"Now, just wait a goddamn second Frank, I'm sure—" Sullivan was cut off by the enraged screaming of his old friend.  
>"I'm telling you, Sullivan, this worthless piece of shit stole it while I slept!" He continued to wave the gun in Nate's direction. The kid had just turned eighteen a couple weeks ago. They had celebrated by going drinking at Sullivan's favorite bar in Key West. Sully bought the kid his first legal drink, and even started a bar fight—also a first for Drake. That was one of the best nights of Nate's short life, and he found himself thinking about it as he stared down the barrel of the gun. <em>Wonder if I'll live to see nineteen…_Drake saw the crazed look in Frank Dobbs' eyes. _Doubt it._ He felt sick to his stomach. "Why'd you ever pick up this street trash? I'd be doing you a favor by killing him." Nate didn't let on, but the words hit a sore spot._ _Even though he and Sully had been partners-in-crime for over three years, Nate still wondered the same thing himself sometimes.  
>Suddenly, Drake heard the sound of a gun being cocked and looked to Sully. Sullivan had pulled out his own pistol and was aiming it at him as well. Nate felt as though his heart had plummeted into his feet. He saw cold detachment in his mentor's eyes.<br>"If the kid stole your share, I'll kill him myself. Now, check his bag." Sully had picked up Nate's pack and handed it to Dobbs. _No, Sully…

_The job had gone smoothly until this point. Sullivan, Drake and Dobbs found the buried treasure with only a little difficulty, and had divvied it up on the spot to equal out the weight of everyone's pack. A bad storm had started shortly after they began their trek back to civilization, so they found some cover and settled in for the night. In the early hours of the morning, Sully awoke to the sounds of Dobbs' angry cursing. His pack had disappeared during the night, and suddenly he was waving his gun at Nate, swearing the kid had stolen it. _Bullshit,_ Sully thought. He had to handle to situation carefully, though. Dobbs was a good man to have on your side in a fight, but he had a bad temper and was the shoot-first-ask-questions-later type. Sullivan tried to talk his friend down, but no dice. The man was not to be reasoned with, and Sully feared for Nate's safety. _You got the kid into this, think of something! _An idea suddenly struck him, and he pulled out his gun, leveling it at Nate. The look of betrayal in Drake's eyes hurt like hell, but it was for the kid's own good. He handed the pack to Dobbs and waited until the man was sufficiently distracted.  
>"I can't find it, Sully. The bastard must have hid it—" Dobbs was down on one knee tearing through Nate's bag when Sully hit him over the head with his pistol, knocking him unconscious. He quickly rolled the man over, and relieved him of both his guns and the knife Sully knew he kept in his boot. Then he stood up and looked to the kid. Nate just continued to stand there, staring. He could see Nate shaking almost imperceptibly.<br>"I'm sorry, kid. But I had to think fast and it was the first trick that came to mind." Drake said nothing for a moment or two, he seemed lost in thought. "C'mon, help me find his goddamn gold so we can show it to him when he wakes up. Otherwise he might try to shoot both of us." Nate mumbled "alright" and helped Sully search. They found the pack about ten feet away in the underbrush. It had teeth marks on it. Dobbs had been carrying the last of the food and some passing animal must have smelled it. "That idiot." Sully muttered. They carried the pack back to the makeshift camp, and waited for Dobbs to wake up. "You okay, kid?" Sullivan was slightly disturbed by Nate's uncharacteristically long silence.  
>"Why did you pick me up in Cartagena?" Sully was caught off guard by the question, it was one he had asked himself more than a few times. He thought carefully before answering.<br>"When we first met I thought you were a bright kid, and I was impressed, but I didn't give you a second thought. Then you showed up at the museum." Sullivan looked at Nate. "You didn't deserve to die on that rooftop. And like I told you, you had talent. It seemed like the right thing to do." Sully struggled for the right words. "Goddamnit kid, I can't really explain it, but it was more than that…it just _felt _like the right thing to do. Do you get what I'm sayin'?" Nate nodded.  
>"For a minute there I thought you were gonna shoot me." <em>Christ, _Sully thought. _I'm really going to have to spell it out for this kid. _He pulled out a cigar and lit it before continuing.  
>"Nate, I'd be lying if I said shooting you hadn't crossed my mind a couple times in the past three years. You can be a right pain in the ass. But get this through your thick head—I may be a thief, a conman, and a stubborn sonuvabitch…but I don't betray fr-" He paused, uncertain for a moment, but then looked pointedly at Nate again. "family." Nate thought about this for a moment, and smiled a little. <em>Finally, the kid gets it, _Sully mentally sighed in relief. Heart-to-hearts weren't his strong point.  
>"Thanks for thinking fast, but I'm sure I could have taken the old bastard." Nate had been sufficiently reassured, and his usual overconfident attitude was returning. Sully just laughed.<br>"Well, someone has to do the goddamn thinking around here." Nate gave up arguing, and opted rather to punch Sully in the arm. "C'mon, kid. Let's wake this idiot up so we can get a move on." Sully stood up, and began walking towards Dobbs, who had begun to move a little.  
>"Hey Sully? I…" Nate didn't what else to say. He wasn't good at heart-to-hearts either.<br>"Yeah, I know, kid." _

The two shots rang out, but only one found its target. Both men hit the ground, but after a moment Drake tiredly climbed to his feet, unharmed. Rameses wouldn't be getting up thanks to Nate, but it was Sully who had saved Nate's life. Sullivan had regained consciousness while Drake and the pirate traded barbs. He listened carefully and waited until the last second, then tucked his head down into his chest and threw himself and the chair backwards—knocking Rameses' shot off-target. Nathan however aimed high, and the shot took his enemy through the left eye. Nate hurriedly up-righted Sully, they needed to move fast.  
>"Can you walk, Sully?" His friend hissed in pain as Nate untied him. His wrists were bruised black and blue from the ropes. He nodded as he stood up, a little unsteady on his feet. "We needed to get going before—" Nate was cut off by Sully pulling him into a quick hug.<br>"Thanks for the rescue, kid." Drake smiled in spite of their current situation, because they weren't out of the woods yet: they still had to escape and find Elena, track down Marlowe and her men, find Ubar…his whole body ached at the thought of it. _One impossible task at a time, kid,_ Sully had told him often when he was younger. So, he ignored all that for the moment and enjoyed this small victory, because he and Sully were alive, and that was what counted.  
>"You sure you're alright? No offense Sully, but you just bled all over me." Nate was trying to joke, but Sullivan saw the concern in his eyes. He briefly took stock of his injuries, only one of the cuts was deep, the rest had already stopped bleeding. He was beaten and bloody, but he'd had worse.<br>"It's not as bad as it looks. Few stitches and bandages and I'll be good as new." Nate grabbed Sullivan's shirt and holster from where they had been tossed aside, and handed them to his friend one at a time. Then he gave Sully his spare pistol. "You ready for this, kid? I don't know about you, but I am sick of being on this goddamn boat, and we've given Marlowe enough of a head start, don't ya think?" Nate laughed a little. He was tired as hell, and all he wanted was a glass of water and a few uninterrupted days worth of sleep. _Who am I kidding? I'll rest when I'm dead. _  
>"Yeah, let's get the hell out of here."<p>

* * *

><p><em>Sorry this took me so long! The closer we get to Christmas, the busier things get around here. <em>

_Well, this is the end of my first fanfic, and while it had its ups and downs (and TYPOS, RAWR), overall I am proud of it. _

_Thanks once again for all the support and great comments! I hope you enjoyed this last chapter._

_I have a couple ideas for a stand-alone Nate and Sully adventure banging around in my head. Maybe after the holidays __I'll try my hand at a second story. _

_I hope you all have a great Christmas and happy New Years, thanks again!  
><em>

-Mary


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